


Freshmen Orientation

by FlufferNutterButter



Series: Changing Day-to-Day [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, F/M, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlufferNutterButter/pseuds/FlufferNutterButter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new year at a new high school starts with Freshmen Orientation, where the incoming students are divided into groups and advised by senior students. The bonds they form here will last a lifetime. Or, until they graduate.</p><p>Alternately, Cronus thinks this is stupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freshmen Orientation

**Author's Note:**

> This just came to me. Randomly. 
> 
> For those of you who have read "The Last Time I Saw You", this is the prequel to that by seven years. After writing that, I planned on writing the story about what happened "That Fateful Night", but then decided to precede that with more worldbuilding and background information.

There was a sign on the classroom door. It was a light blue, adorned with stickers of stars and happy faces like they were going into kindergarten and not ninth grade. In curly-q writing at the top of the paper were the words “Freshmen Orientation!” followed by the group number and list of names. An olive painted fingernail dragged down the list as Meulin Leijon searched for her name.

This was a new school. Her previous school, which she had attended with Horuss Zahhak, Porrim Maryam, and Kankri Vantas, three students that she knew were also attending this high school, ended in the eighth grade. She was relieved when she scanned the list to find their names in her group. At least, now, she wouldn’t have to face that awkward admittance alone.

She pushed open the door to the classroom to find that she was not alone; she could find comfort in the fact that her wordy, sweater-wearing acquaintance was already here. He greeted her.

“Hello, Meulin,” he said, saluting her with both words and a sign, one of the few gestures he knew. She smiled.

“Hi Kankri!”

She contemplated whether or not to sit next to him; they knew each other well enough, but it would be awkward to sit right next to him when there were already so many other seats around the room. The chairs and desks were situated in a sort of circle.

But she sat next to him anyway, since there seemed to be a random seat arrangement indicated by nametags on each desk. Hers happened to be right next to Kankri. And, what chance, Porrim was sitting on the other side of her. At least, this way, she was surrounded by people she knew, but this would impede her chances of making new friends with the people beside her.

Meulin settled in and waited for the rest of the students to file in; some of them must have been held up with finding their groups. The orientation had started with an assembly in the gym, where a faculty member had given an introduction and explained the way the day would go. Meulin had missed most of it; the faculty member had walked around a lot, and Meulin couldn’t get anything that was said as she faced away. But a quick question to another faculty gave Meulin a headstart on everyone else; she knew exactly where to go. That was how she had found herself outside the classroom in the first place. One thing that she had learned begrudgingly over the past three years: everyone pities the disabled.

Meulin pulled out her notebook from her olive cat-themed messenger bag and began to doodle with her array of rainbow pens, so she was oblivious to the world.

The next few students came in with a clamor that literally fell on deaf ears for Meulin, but Kankri was nearly shocked out of his sweater when the door was flung open with a boisterous “Hi, guyth!”

A teen with a shock of shaggy, dark hair that fell in his eyes and a black and yellow hoodie strolled into the room, a huge grin on his face. He took a deep breath like he wanted to say more, but was quieted when a girl in a teal t-shirt jumped behind him and placed a finger to his lips.

“Quiet, Tunes!” She smiled apologetically towards the others in the room. “Sorry. This rad dude tends to get a little excited. I’m Latula, by the way.” She scanned the room, taking quick note of the nametags, and pointed Mituna in the right direction before taking her own seat, one away from Meulin. Shortly afterward, another two students came inside. One was a male, thickly built, with the tips of his black hair dyed red. He waved hello, but didn’t say anything as he went to his own seat. Behind him came an intimidating-looking girl of Asian descent, who walked to the seat next to him. The boy with the dyed hair pulled her chair out for her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. The girl’s tough expression dissolved to one of adoration.

There was a lull in attendance until a lone student walked in, immediately drawing the attention of all. He was tall, and wore a skeleton jacket that seemed appropriate giving his slight build, with indigo jeans. Most shocking, though, was his face, which was done up in all-out skeleton makeup. He didn’t say a word, but took his place. Directly across the circle of fourteen desks, Mituna stood and waved.

“Hi, Kurloz!”

The skeleton-themed teen smiled and waved. Latula turned to Mituna, giving an endearing “Mituna…” to indicate that the boy should control his volume levels. He smiled sheepishly and blushed.

“I’m sorry.”

“No problem, dude,” Latula assured him, giving another bright smile. Kankri took note of how easily those two got on. It made him…

Jealous?

No, no, Kankri had never had a crush. He was against such flamboyant, possibly triggering behavior.

This was not jealousy. And this girl, Latula, with her outrageous sunglasses and shining teal eyes, did not have his affections. Absolutely not.

Kankri frowned, directing his attention elsewhere, such as the door, which was opening to let in the last five students. The first two walked in bickering, shooting insults back and forth and only stopping to find their seats, which were, lo and behold, right next to each other. The girl had short, chopped hair, with the exception of two thin braids that nearly reached the floor. The boy made Kankri think of last year, when his Social Studies teacher had showed them the movie that went along with S. E. Hinton’s _The Outsiders_.

Meulin looked up at Kankri’s beckoning to see her best friend, Horuss, walk in with Porrim, who was wearing another one of her extravagant designs, and another girl with glasses that she’d never seen before. They seemed to get along fairly well, and the new girl was in the seat next to Horuss.

There were only two seats not filled now, the two at the head of the classroom. But then, the door opened, and two older students walked in. They had the same pale blonde hair. The boy wore sunglasses, even though they were inside. He climbed over his desk and leaned on the edge so he was facing the middle of the circle, crossing his arms. The girl sat on her desk. She had a stack of papers in her hands.

“Hello, everyone. We’re your senior advisors, and this is your advisory group. This is not just a group for freshmen orientation. Instead, you will meet in these groups once a week for the rest of the year.” She pushed one of the papers to the side, looking up for the first time. “My name is Rose Lalonde.”

“I’m Dave Strider.” The glasses-wearing senior spoke frankly.

“Now, to get things started, I know it’s a little cliché, but I’d like everyone to say their name and the school they previously attended.” Rose smiled sweetly. She indicated that the Asian girl should go first. The girl cast her eyes downward nervously and pursed her lips, but a pat on the back from the boy next to her seemed to give her confidence.

“My name is Damara Megido.” She spoke with halting, underdeveloped English. “Before here, I go to Beforus.”

“I’m Rufioh Nitram, and I went to Beforus, too.”

“Mynane ith Mituna Captor! And I wentoo Altrena Acadmy!”

A few people puzzled over what Mituna said.

“My name is Kankri Vantas, and I attended English Middle School.”

Meulin had been watching everyone very carefully to remember their names and previous schools. “I’m Meulin Leijon, and I went to English, too!”

“I am Porrim Maryam, and, like Kankri and Meulin, I attended English Middle.”

“I’m Latula Pyrope, and I attended Alternia Academy, just like Mituna.” She cleared up the slight confusion regarding Mituna’s statement. Kankri took note of this; Alternia Academy had a notoriously successful program for students with “disabilities”, though he’d never use such offensive terminology. Meulin had considered going there after her accident, but Mrs. Leijon wouldn’t have been able to drop her children off at two different schools. She was a very busy woman.

“My name is Aranea Serket. I went to Beforus with Rufioh and Damara.”

“My name is Horuss Zahhak, and I attended English Middle School.”

All eyes then shifted to the skeleton teen. Meulin sat up a little straighter when she saw him move his hands. He was signing.

[Sorry. I’m mute.]

It seemed that nobody else could interpret his movements, but Mituna was quick to come to his rescue. “Kurloz can’t speak!”

Dave and Rose exchanged glances, but Meulin was already on it. She pulled her notebook from her bag and selected a pen that matched Kurloz’s pants and passed them to Porrim, who handed them to Latula, and on around the circle until they reached Kurloz.

[Thank you.] he signed.

[You’re welcome.] Meulin signed back. Kurloz raised his eyebrows in surprise and interest to find that she knew sign language. But he had to direct his attention to introducing himself. He flipped to a clean page in the notebook and wrote large print.

MY NAME IS KURLOZ MAKARA.

I WENT TO ALTERNIA ACADEMY.

When everyone had time to read it, Cronus went next.

“My name is Cronus Ampora, an’ I went to Skaia Day.” He shrugged, looking really bored.

The last girl, the one with the choppy hair and braids, jumped out of her seat. She walked around the circle to the whiteboard, grabbed a marker, and wrote ten digits on the board. She turned around and put her hands on her hips.

“My name is Meenah Peixes, I went to Skaia Day, and that’s my number! You losers betta write it down if you ever want any excitement in your boring lives!”

Everyone was still for a moment, taking in her over-the-top introduction. But then, Aranea pulled out her phone and entered the number. Everyone else followed suit. Why not? They’d be seeing each other every week until the end of the school year.

When they were done, Rose spoke up.

“Next on the agenda, we have some group exercises.”

~~~

“This is stupid.”

Cronus Ampora was leaning against one of the desks and watched as everyone else participated in the group exercise. Dave and Rose had laid out forty-nine sheets of paper in a rectangle, seven by seven. Dave held a piece of paper in his hand with a seven-by-seven grid that had X’s drawn to mark a path. The point of the exercise was, apparently, to make it across the papers in the path drawn on the paper, but only Dave and Rose knew the path. If somebody stepped on a wrong sheet of paper, one of the seniors told them, and they had to start over. Everyone was supposed to work together to memorize the path and give instruction to whoever was walking at that time.

Cronus may have been a little bit bitter that he managed to fail spectacularly on his first try.

“It’s a group exercise.” Dave countered.

“It has no point, whatsoever.”

“It’s a group exercise. It doesn’t have to have a point.” Dave insisted.

“We’re just walking across paper!”

Dave sighed. “Look. It’s supposed to be, like, a bridge or some shit. The carpet is water.”

“We’re all standing on the carpet. The bridge doesn’t do any good if it’s floating.”

“Just the part that the bridge covers is water.”

“So,” Cronus said, “We can walk around.”

“No. The carpet next to the bridge is water, too.”

“But you just said-”

“Shut up and participate.”

Cronus scowled. “Why can’t we just swim across?”

Kankri piped up from his spot in line. “That could be offensive to people who can’t swim. Are you suggesting we leave them stranded?”

“Can everyone here swim?” Cronus asked loudly. Everyone nodded. He turned to Kankri. “I don’t see the problem.”

“You can’t swim.” Dave insisted.

“Or, hey, we can jump across. It’s not very far.” Cronus pressed on.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re fat.”

“That could be offensive to people who feel self-conscious about their weight!” Kankri said. Neither Cronus nor Dave paid them any attention. While this conversation was going on, the rest of the group was still participating. Every once in a while, Dave would look up and tell someone that they’d stepped on a wrong piece of paper.

“Why the hell is this bridge so dangerous, anyway?” Cronus continued to poke holes in the logic of the group exercise.

“Because it’s… a bridge at one of those stereotypical dilapidated summer camps. It’s falling apart, but nobody cares enough to fix it.”

“So, are you saying that we’re at fat camp?”

“Those terms can be offensive!”

“Yes.” Dave deadpanned. “You’re at fat camp.”

Cronus rolled his eyes and stepped up for his turn in line. He didn’t make it too far, having ignored the instruction of everyone else. When Dave told him he’d made a misstep, Cronus groaned, and walked straight over to him.

“Why are we trying to cross this bridge, anyway?”

“Because it’s lunch time. They’re serving fried chicken.”

Cronus gave Dave a very serious look. “They’re serving fried chicken at fat camp.”

“Yes.”

Dave was going to say more, but he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to find Meenah Peixes looking at the map over his shoulder. Dave took a deep breath and stood up. He grabbed a marker and started drawing new X’s.

“Okay! New map. Everyone start over. You can all thank Meenah for throwing away your efforts.”

~~~

Despite a slightly rocky start, everyone managed to get along okay for the rest of the day, and when it was time to go, most people said goodbye with a smile and a wave.

Meulin and Horuss were talking in the hallway afterwards when Meulin felt a tap on her shoulder. Kurloz was standing behind her. He handed her the notebook and pen.

[Thanks for letting me borrow that.]

[It’s no problem.] Meulin signed with a smile. Kurloz couldn’t help but smile back. He paused, thinking, before signing again.

[Why do you know sign language? It’s not a common thing.]

Meulin’s smile fell a little bit, and Kurloz realized he’d made a faux pas.

[I’m sorry. I didn’t-]

Meulin took his hands in hers, stopping his signing. She looked down for a moment.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. She looked up at him again, smiling, and let go of his hands so that she could sign.

[I’m deaf.]

[I didn’t know.]

[It’s okay.] She was smiling so brightly, Kurloz truly believed she wasn’t bothered. He felt himself return the expression.

[Okay.]

Their moment was broken up, however, when Horuss tapped Meulin on the shoulder following his checking his phone.

“Hm?” She directed her attention to him.

“My father has just informed me that your mother has picked up the afternoon shift at her job and won’t be able to pick you up. Aurthour is here, and we can give you a ride home, if you want. But we should go, now.”

“Okay!” Meulin said cheerily. She turned back to Kurloz. “See you tomorrow, Kurloz!” She and Horuss walked down the hall to collect their things from their lockers.

[Bye.]

~~~

“What is up, brother? Why’re you all up and smiling so much today?” Gamzee asked. Kurloz just continued to look out of the car window towards the school building. Meulin had already left, but Kurloz held out hope that tomorrow, they would get to communicate again.

**Author's Note:**

> The main story to follow this one will be called "The Council of Twelve", which will precede "That Fateful Night" by three months. Then, and only then, will I write the only part of this story that people are actually interested in.
> 
> Those are the only stories to focus on the Pre-Scratch trolls as a whole, but I will be adding other, smaller stories that involve smaller groups and Post-Scratch trolls.
> 
> The humans play very little part in this series at all.


End file.
